On Tuesday, Americans honored our veterans while hundreds of thousands of Poles filled the streets of Warsaw to celebrate their Independence Day. November 11 marks the day that ended the First World War (the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month), when guns fell silent across Europe. In the United States, we call it Veterans Day. In Britain, it’s Armistice Day (until 1954, the U.S. also called it this). In Poland, it’s the day a nation returned from the dead.
After more than a century of partition and occupation by Prussia, Russia, and Austria, Poland was restored to the map in 1918. President Woodrow Wilson’s Fourteen Points made that possible. Point 13 called for “an independent Polish state… which should be assured a free and secure access to the sea.” That vision gave birth to modern Poland and, in a way, would shape the century that followed. When Germany invaded in 1939, Adolf Hitler justified it partly by seeking to reunite German lands divided at Versailles. East Prussia had been cut off from Germany by the Polish Corridor. Today, that corridor is part of Poland, while the former Prussian city of Königsberg—now the Russian exclave of Kaliningrad—remains a relic of empire on the Baltic coast.
Geography has never been kind to Poland. Much of the country is open plain, a vast flatland between two great powers. It has always stood exposed, without the natural fortifications (except in the south) that protect so many nations. Poland has for much of its history been a thoroughfare between rival empires, with the Germans (or Prussians) and Austrians on one side, and the Russians on the other. Many have invaded it, ruled it, and attempted to erase it.
It was also the heart of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, once one of Europe’s largest and most advanced states, yet became a victim of the same forces that shaped the modern continent. It suffered invasion by Sweden in the 17th century and partition by neighboring empires in the 18th, culminating in that union's demise. Poland then faced calamitous destruction in the 20th, after it reappeared on the map. It endured the Nazi occupation, the Holocaust, then decades of communist rule imposed by the Soviet Union. In short, it has seen nearly every form of tyranny Europe could produce and survived them all.
And that’s what gives Poland such a unique perspective. It has not only seen war but lived through so many backward ideologies of the modern age (including some present ones) and ultimately rejected them. From totalitarianism, to imperialism, to communistic atheism, what has remained in spite of it all has been faith, family, and national pride.
You see this spirit every year on November 11. The Polish Independence March isn’t a parade in the American sense. It’s an act of freedom and defiance. This year, perhaps as many as 200,000 people gathered in Warsaw: veterans, priests, families, and small children waving flags. Among those who joined were guests from abroad, including American commentator Don Keith and British activist Tommy Robinson. They and others accompanied Polish MEP Dominik Tarczyński—who has made “Be Like Poland” something of a rallying cry across a rapidly changing Europe.
I spoke to Keith the day of the event. He said he was struck by the sense of order in Warsaw. “The cleanliness, the quietness of the busy streets, the police force lining the roads fully armed—it’s a breath of fresh air,” he said. “After spending lots of time in Britain, where leftists and Muslims create the opposite environment, it’s remarkable. No one in Poland seems afraid to walk the streets or to speak freely.”
He added that the hospitality extended to him and other visitors stood out as well. “The warm welcome we’ve received from the Polish government, especially from the gracious MEP Dominik Tarczyński, has been amazing. Dominik is a true gentleman and patriot—a shining example of what it means to be Polish.”
Keith described the trip as “eye-opening,” adding that “Europe needs to follow Poland’s lead, or Western European culture is doomed.”
On Tuesday, Don Keith also walked through Warsaw with Stefan Tompson, a British-born filmmaker and commentator who has become one of the most articulate defenders of modern Poland on the world stage. If you are familiar with the popular site and X account Visegrad24, then you will know of his work. In their recorded conversation, Tompson reflected on the depth of Poland’s national character and the scars communism left behind.
“Communism really damaged the Polish soul,” Tompson said. “It instilled a deep distrust in the population—informants, the secret police, infiltrators in the resistance. That legacy of suspicion still lingers. But in another sense, Poland is simply a stronghold of common sense. We’re not fighting against something, we’re fighting to preserve something.”
He described this by quoting the Austrian composer Gustav Mahler: “Tradition is not the worship of ashes; it is the preservation of fire.”
Tompson spoke about Poland’s history as a living inheritance: the 123 years of partition between Russia, Prussia, and Austria when Poland ceased to exist as a state; the uprisings that kept its spirit alive; the brutal invasions by Germany and the Soviets; and the long shadow of communist rule. “The cost,” he said, “has been immense, and it’s reflected in every person’s ancestry here. Someone’s father fought against communism, a grandfather against Nazism, and a great-great-grandfather against the occupiers. That’s where the common sense stems from.”
He also linked Poland’s endurance to its faith. “It is still a country that is mostly religious, mostly Roman Catholic, and that practices its faith,” he said. “You cannot maintain Western civilization without its foundations—Roman law, Greek philosophy, and Christendom. It stands on three great hills: the Acropolis, the Capitol, and Golgotha. All three must work in tandem.”
That sense of stability is something you hear often from those who have chosen to make Poland their home. Levi Borba, a Brazilian-born entrepreneur and founder of The Expatriate Consultancy, moved to Poland eight years ago after volunteering here as a university student. He now runs The Expat, a YouTube channel with nearly 40,000 subscribers that helps people navigate the challenges of moving abroad.
“I first came to Poland 14 years ago to do volunteer work with poor children,” Borba told me. “About 10 years ago, I met my wife—she’s Polish—and after living in places like Chile and Qatar, we decided to settle here.”
What struck him most was how livable and safe the country felt. “Life here is very safe and predictable, to the point of being boring,” he said with a laugh. “And that’s a good thing. It’s a really good place to raise kids. There are parks everywhere, healthcare is accessible, and everything is quite easy. If life were a game, Poland would be the easy mode. Other countries I’ve lived in—Chile or Qatar—would be medium, and Brazil would be hard mode.”
Borba admits that running a business in Poland can be difficult, but still insists that, overall, “I’ve never been in a better place to raise a family.”
As for this author, I’ve lived in Poland since 2020. My wife is Polish, and our two young children are dual citizens. My daughter’s preschool is a public school with a cross above the door. No one complains. Faith isn’t hidden, and patriotism is, in no way, suspicious. There’s an understanding here that both belong at the center of a healthy society.
That moral confidence shows up in other ways, too. Poland has one of the lowest crime rates in Europe. It has avoided the uncontrolled migration that radically transformed cities like Paris and Stockholm. Families still tend to stay together, communities are stable, and people speak with pride about their country without having to apologize for it.
Mr. Tarczyński has often said that Poland intends to avoid the mistakes made elsewhere in Europe. The country has effectively zero Muslim immigration and maintains strict border controls. Critics in Brussels may call this intolerant, but Poles call it common sense. They have watched what happened in France, Britain, Germany, Spain, and Italy and decided on another course. Many Americans today talk about “America First.” Poland simply practices “Poland First.”
Yet this does not mean Poland is entirely closed off. It is possible to immigrate here—I did (granted, it was through marriage). It’s just selective and lawful. It rewards those who lead productive lives rather than those who exploit Westerners’ suicidal empathy. This discernment is precisely what much of the West has forgotten altogether.
The results speak for themselves. Poland now has the fastest-growing economy in Europe (set to surpass the U.K. by 2030) and one of the most dynamic tech sectors on the continent. From Warsaw’s gleaming business district to the startups in Wrocław and Gdańsk, there’s a sense of ambition and possibility in the air. The country has moved from post-communist poverty to entrepreneurial confidence in little more than a single generation. It’s a place where people still believe that hard work and family values, rather than government programs, are what truly build a prosperous future.
For all its modernization, Poland hasn’t lost its soul. The European Union sometimes calls Poland “defiant.” But to Poles, independence is sacred, as they know what it costs to lose it. The country protects its sovereignty with the instinct of one that understands the stakes.
Of course, Poland isn’t perfect. It has political divisions, economic challenges, and generational debates, just like every free nation has. But its moral compass points unmistakably north, and it hasn’t surrendered to the relativism that dominates so much of Western politics today. Its leaders still talk openly about God, duty, and honor. These are not empty words here.
That’s why Poland resonates with so many abroad, especially conservatives. It reminds us of something we used to know. It shows what a country looks like when it refuses to be ashamed of itself. In America, we’ve spent decades apologizing for our history, our faith, and our flag. We debate whether patriotism is inclusive, whether belief is acceptable, and whether masculinity is dangerous. In Poland, these questions aren’t as common. People know who they are.
When I walk through Warsaw on Independence Day, I feel something that’s become rare in the West: a real sense of unity. The faces in the crowd tell a story: one of survival, pride, and hope. Poles know their freedom was bought at a high price, not once, but many times.
America doesn’t need to become Poland, per se. But we could do worse than to muster the kind of strength and resilience that Poland has built through the lessons of its past trauma. I’m not sure how replicable it is for all nations, but there is definitely something to be learned here by many.